


To Clarify

by captainskellington



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainskellington/pseuds/captainskellington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac comes to a realisation, Enjolras makes a startling revelation, and everybody's quite frankly a little bit shocked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Clarify

The sudden realisation strikes Courfeyrac just minutes after the conclusion of a meeting.

He’s draped across Jehan on one of the battered old sofas in the backroom of the Musain, head in his lap, only half paying attention to his boyfriend’s softly spoken conversation with Combeferre as he strokes Courfeyrac’s hair absentmindedly.

The other half of his concentration wanders between each of his other friends. Feuilly and Enjolras stand to the side, discussing the general practicalities and pros and cons of fundraising to send aid overseas. Enjolras is gesticulating wildly and Feuilly has to bite back a smile when he almost sends his drink flying. Courfeyrac grins into Jehan’s leg, and his attention moves on.

An overworked Joly has fallen asleep with his head atop his arms braced on a table. Bahorel and Bossuet, trying desperately to muffle their laughter, are taking the opportunity to see how many things from their surroundings they can balance on top of him before he wakes up. The count thus far stands at three beer mats, a half empty bowl of peanuts, and Cosette’s handbag.

The owner of said handbag sits at another sofa with Marius, Grantaire and Eponine, the four of them engaged in a rather intense game of cards that Courfeyrac can’t quite grasp the rules for. Judging by the look of complete befuddlement on Marius’ face, he isn’t the only one. Eponine’s face still shows the occasional fleeting expression of hurt when Cosette and Marius share a moment, but they’re becoming fewer and further between, and Courfeyrac is glad for it. It’ll be much better for everyone when she finally gets over him, and she knows it as well as anyone.

Then, Courfeyrac’s eye is caught by Grantaire who stands and heads to the bar, shooting some vague threat of mutilation over his shoulder in the hopes of deterring the others from peeking at his hand. Eponine, predictably, does so anyway and Cosette laughs at this, receiving a shameless grin in return.

He finds himself contemplating the relationship between the two. It’s somewhat interesting to him, he thinks as he watches Grantaire hop up onto a barstool and order a round for his friends, that they - Eponine and Grantaire, that is - had never had anything romantic between them. Not that it’s uncommon, of course, but the two are both lovely, attractive people, and have had such a strong, lasting relationship rivaling only that of Combeferre, Enjolras and himself. And even he and Combeferre had had… Something of an arrangement some time ago. The brief flashes of memory make him smile, even as it had made Jehan laugh and express his “non-existent surprise” to hear about.

But Eponine and Grantaire had never been anything other than partners in crime, beautiful though they both were. And sure enough, Eponine had had her fair share of partners throughout his time of knowing her. Grantaire, on the other hand…

Courfeyrac’s brow furrows slightly. At the bar, Grantaire brazenly flirts with the bartender, who simply rolls her eyes and laughs at him, knowing he means nothing by it. Grantaire is one to flirt just for the sake of flirting, Courfeyrac knows - and it takes one to know one, really. Last year, he’d even taken up the annual New Year’s challenge of seeing just how many people he could steal a kiss from before the night was through, in contest with Courfeyrac. He’d been good competition, admittedly, and Courfeyrac had relished the challenge. But it had been no real contest, considering that he had been kissing anyone and everyone he received consent from regardless of gender, whereas Grantaire had been focussing entirely on-- _oh._

And then is when it dawns on him.

Courfeyrac bolts upright, startling Jehan’s hands out of his hair. A few of the others’ attention is drawn by his abrupt movement, but he doesn’t even notice. How could he not have _realised?_ He, Courfeyrac, resident self-elected love expert, had been completely blind, entirely oblivious to the fact that-

“Grantaire’s _gay?”_

At this, Bahorel and Bossuet snort, returning to their activities after ensuring Joly hasn’t been awakened by this outburst. Grantaire remains oblivious, still out of earshot at the bar, and a few of the others glance over at him before looking questioningly back to Courfeyrac.

It’s Jehan who replies, voice amused but with a hint of uncertainty, “...Yes?”

Courfeyrac gapes at his friends. “You _knew?”_

“Darling, it’s fairly obvious. We all knew. We all thought _you_ knew, certainly.”

There’s a snort from the other couch and Courfeyrac glares at Eponine, who’s clutching her hands over her mouth to muffle her laughter with little success. Apparently he’s not all that intimidating, because she just laughs even harder.

“No, I’m sorry, but _how did you not know?_ Were you honestly completely unaware of the Eiffel Tower-sized cru-” she’s cut off by a sharp jab from Cosette’s hand and a warning look from Combeferre. She pauses a second, eyes darting to Enjolras for a fleeting second. “I mean, really. He’s brought guys home, Courf.”

Enjolras quietly chuckles into his glass of water, “And you all call _me_ oblivious.”

Courfeyrac whips around to stare at him, eyes wide. Okay, so he could admit defeat to the majority, but not knowing this fact about his friend when even Enjolras, what-do-you-mean-Easter-falls-on-a-different-date-every-year _Enjolras_ had been aware?

 _“You_ knew?”

Enjolras quirks an amused eyebrow and sets his glass down, “Yes.”

He isn’t going to let it go that easily. _“You?”_

“Courfeyrac-”

“But _how?”_

“Literally everyone knew, Courf. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it.”

“B-but -- you forgot your own birthday last year, I don’t understand how _you_ could know when _I didn’t_!”

Enjolras, obviously bored with the conversation and keen to return to discussing more important matters with Feuilly, sighs irritably. “Yes, well, it became undeniably evident that that was indeed the case last night when he was screaming my name with his dick buried in my ass. Are we done now?”

With that, everyone’s paying attention. The silence is so sudden and complete that you could hear a pin drop; or, alternatively, Courfeyrac can hear the almost inhuman half choking, half strangled yelling noise that Grantaire makes, having had returned to within earshot moments ago.

Cosette and Eponine - the first to recover, though still looking shocked - smoothly turn and retrieve all four drinks from his hands before he spills them.

Enjolras, for his part, looks suitably embarrassed once he realises exactly what he just said, the red flush across his cheeks matching that of Grantaire’s entire face. Combeferre and Eponine’s gazes are locked on their best friends’ faces respectively, the ‘ _and you were going to tell me WHEN exactly?_ ’ evident in their expressions.

Jehan pats Courfeyrac’s head distractedly, and he leans into it. “Well, I guess you weren’t the only one who didn’t know something after all.”

Grantaire clears his throat, trying to find words. “You - you told them?”

Enjolras lifts his chin, a defiant glimmer in his eyes. “I did.”

“They know?”

“They do.”

“So we’re-”

“If you want to be.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“Seriously?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Fuck.”

“That’s the general idea, yes.”

Combeferre groans, breaking the silence and letting his head fall to the back of the couch with a thump. “To clarify,” he says, pointing at the ceiling aimlessly. “Enjolras just - awkwardly as hell, I might add - asked Grantaire out, and I’m fairly certain - Taire?” Grantaire nods haltingly after a moment, unable to look away from Enjolras. “Yeah, Taire just said yes.”

“Is that what happened?” Courfeyrac asks, dazed. Both Enjolras and Grantaire nod, more sure this time.

Enjolras smiles nervously, conversation with Feuilly long forgotten, and extends his hand forward; a clear invitation. Grantaire hesitates, then he’s crossing the room in a few long strides, bypassing his hand entirely and pulling Enjolras into a tight embrace. Enjolras’ hands quickly find his waist and pull him closer, then they’re pulling back just enough to engage in a fierce kiss.

Feeling suddenly awkward, Courfeyrac turns and buries his face in Jehan’s neck. Feuilly - who had stepped away from Enjolras to join Combeferre on the couch a few moments previously - coughs and pulls attention to him by drumming up a truly riveting discussion about the recent weather, which Cosette and Eponine both contribute to enthusiastically.

Stirred by the sudden increase in the noise level, Joly drowsily raises his head. _“Whadidimiss,”_ He mumbles, then catches sight of Enjolras and Grantaire, still firmly wrapped around each other. “What?”

Sitting up is a mistake, because the sudden movement catapults every object that had been so lovingly and carefully placed on his back onto the floor. The loud series of _BANG_ s it produces causes the new couple to spring apart, and Cosette hisses at the contents of her handbag scattering everywhere.

“What the - _guys,”_ he moans. “Whatever, though, seriously -- _what?”_ he repeats, gesturing towards Enjolras and Grantaire, both clutching each other and blushing furiously. “What is going on?”

“Bossuet and Bahorel are _collecting my belongings_ ,” Cosette explains, a pointed glare at the aforementioned men sending them scrambling around on their knees to do just that with muttered apologies. “And Enjolras and Grantaire are going out. Oh, yeah, and Courfeyrac is an idiot.”

“Is that why this happened?” Grantaire mutters to Enjolras, eyebrow quirked in amusement. Enjolras nods as Courfeyrac starts whining loudly.

“ _HOW DID I NOT KNOW HE WAS GAY?_ ” He laments. Jehan pats his hair soothingly.

“To clarify,” Combeferre repeats. “You’re an idiot.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS LITERALLY SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 500 WORDS LONG WHERE DID I GO WRONG
> 
> Genuinely just wrote this so I could make Enjolras say that one line. You know the one I mean. Don't pretend you don't.  
> Courfeyrac turning into a petulant child when he's left out of the loop is something I approve of entirely.  
> I apologise for the likelihood of this all being incredibly out of character, that's what I do best.
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr at [cityelf](http://cityelf.tumblr.com) and tell me I'm an idiot.


End file.
